


Stories

by lightningbugqueen



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Brothers, Hunters, Legends, deep, it's a little weird, no beta we die like men, outside pov, stories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:01:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26685577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lightningbugqueen/pseuds/lightningbugqueen
Summary: A little writing piece about the boys, from an outside POV
Comments: 6
Kudos: 21





	Stories

**Author's Note:**

> This one's a little odd, but I hope you like it! :)

People will always tell stories.  
Once, a long time ago, the told stories of a yellow-eyed demon and the fires that followed it.  
They told stories of a hunter bar and an old man who would call you an idjit but give you all the help you needed.  
Those stories changed over time and became something more.  
Two brothers started cropping up, around the time angels and the apocalypse did. Some hated them with a passion, while others thought them heroes. Those stories changed after a while too.  
Now, they tell a different story. That of four men, rather than two. The tall, kind one, who always understood even the worst of pain, from experience. The boy, whose eyes glowed with power, but whose heart was full of love. The man, sometimes angel, in a trench coat, with his deep voice, who was protective of the others to a fault. And the other one. The one with the leather jacket, and the gruff voice, who never let anyone get close to him, but cared for the other three with a fierce passion.  
These men are gone now, of course. Few know the real story, but many say they were killed by God himself. Some say by a monster named Chuck.  
These stories still circulate. Stories of a band of heroes, traveling the States in a black muscle car, saving people, hunting things. Sometimes they were aided by a kind woman with striking red hair and a passion for Harry Potter. Sometimes, it was just one of them.  
Nobody knows their real story. That of love, and betrayal, and forgiveness.  
But that’s what stories are, isn’t it? Building someone into a perfect version of themself, when really they’re just a person, with flaws, who makes mistakes, but tries their hardest to fix them.  
And so the Winchester’s are myths, things told by old hunters around a fire, or whispered in the back of a bar. No one knew their real lives, but people will always tell stories

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, leave a comment and/or kudos! :)  
> 


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